Fame & Fortune: Actor Nick Moran made his name as a card sharp in 'Lock,
Stock and Two Smoking Barrels’ but when it comes to gambling with
his own money he’s rather careful

Money was never discussed, so I’m not particularly frugal. That’s not because we had pots of it, quite the opposite, but because my dad, who worked for the AA, did things himself. He’d build the extension or put the central heating in.

He once bought a sheep carcass and sawed it up on the kitchen table. We had lamb chops for three months. It brings you up with the idea that you can do anything. So I wasn’t frightened of writing scripts or directing a movie.

Your first paid job?

I worked in a supermarket for £1.18 an hour. I loved it and would get up extra early. Then Dad got me a job in the staff canteen at the AA. It has held me in good stead because you learn how to cook when the chef’s doing the crossword. That was £2-something an hour in the mid-Eighties. I was buying Mod suits in Carnaby Street with that money.

A spender. I’ve never saved and I couldn’t tell you how much I’ve got in my bank account. There’s a saying about being a bohemian: because you don’t know when you’re going to get paid, when you do, you should spend it quickly and experience opulence in spurts. Every time I got a cheque, it would be gone in minutes.

I’m a bit bored with that now. But I’ve gone through ridiculous amounts, going to high-end clubs and buying rounds of champagne and vodka cocktails. The next thing you know, you’ve spent 500 quid, and you’ve got nothing to show for it.

Fair to say that having money went to your head?

Yeah, I spent money like water to prove a point because I’d been poor for such a long time. I didn’t even have a bank account. I’d been written off because I had an overdraft, which I hadn’t serviced. After Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, I ended up opening a joint account with my mother. Then suddenly I was getting cheques for big American movies and Maureen in Basingstoke [his mother] looked like some Colombian drug baron with hundreds of thousands going into her account.

Do you regret the excesses?

No. My accountant said: “It’s not as if you won it. You’ll earn it again.” I did some fantastic dramas last year – Mr Selfridge, The Great Train Robbery, The Wrong Mans – and they do pay well.

I’d rather have a story to tell than a pile of money to sit on. I’ll always have the press clippings of me being thrown out of a nightclub and asleep on the floor at an awards ceremony!

What was your first acting pay cheque?

A short film for Channel 4 when I was at drama school. It was £600-£700 for a week. I had a massive overdraft so it was consumed within seconds.

My first proper job was in Bill Kenwright’s Blood Brothers in 1990. That was £180 a week, the Equity minimum, taxed, in cash in a little brown envelope. When I took over the lead because the guy had an accident, I got an extra £6 a show. I remember taking a bow and thinking: “I’m getting paid for this. It’s absurd.” And here I am working for Bill Kenwright again – for a bit more this time.

"Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels paid a few hundred quid a week"

What has been your most lucrative contract?

I did a Barclays commercial in about 2000, which Tony Scott directed, with Tim Roth and Anthony Hopkins, filming for a week in LA. If you did a big role in a big British film, you wouldn’t get as much money. They’re the treats from having worked hard as an actor.

Any other surprising spin-off perks?

After Lock, Stock, I was GQ “man of the year” and Sky magazine’s “best-dressed man”, and I got given a load of fantastic free suits that I would never be able to replace… so I can’t change my basic body shape. I also ended up doing photo shoots for Dunhill and River Island. I got discounts and was invited to events, like the polo.

Does 'Lock, Stock’ still pay?

No. We agreed to work for a few hundred quid a week with no residuals, and that was a buy-out. I understand the attitude of Guy [Ritchie] and Matthew [Vaughn], having directed and produced films myself. They took the risk, they wrote the script, it was their success. We were lucky to be in it, and the next film I did I got a proper pay cheque.

What do you get residuals for?

Everybody on the Harry Potters is wonderfully looked after. Once something has gone into the black, the Screen Actors Guild has a fair way of dividing up the profits. Periodically you get some and it’s very nice.

Best investment?

My accountant made me buy my flat, which I’ve had 14 years. I still have a mortgage, but I’ve got the top two floors of a Georgian house with a rooftop garden on the corner of Fitzroy Square in London. I can kick back, thinking: “I earned this out of being an actor, this precarious trade that most people struggle at.”

That must have appreciated in value…

I wouldn’t know. I deliberately don’t want to get involved in the cost and worth of property. I don’t want to become a slave to money. You’ve got to read the scripts before you read the fee on offer.

Biggest financial mistake?

Turning down Lord of the Rings! Financially, but not ethically, when my play Telstar was on, we had a cash flow problem and I put a lot of money into it. Then we had 7/7 [tube bombings] and the cast were playing to only a couple of dozen people, so there was no way I was going to get my money back. There’s a saying about never putting your own money in a show, but I think you’ve got to put your money where your mouth is.

Cash, card or cheque?

American Express gave me a titanium Centurion Card years ago when I was earning a lot, and I’ve managed to keep it. It makes me a bit of a w-----, but I do like putting it on the table. I get to pretend I’m a big shot. It’s limitless and can get you tickets for anything. But I don’t feel comfortable without having 50 quid in my pocket as well.

Most you’ve splashed out on a single item?

Probably the most stupid purchase is an eight-grand Jacuzzi with a pop-up waterproof telly for the roof. I’ve no means of getting it up there so it’s in the warehouse awaiting delivery instructions. My mum saw it when we were at the Hampton Court flower show, so it’s her fault.

I also spent silly money on my 40th birthday. I booked a cabaret, with a 12-piece band, a woman with a 10ft python, two guys dressed as aliens on the door, a casino, guys in pearly kings outfits handing out “Cockney sushi”, a firework display and a pole-dancing Jesus. It was an exercise in frivolity.

That sounds like tens of thousands…

Yeah, it was but I couldn’t care less. Anyone who went knows how much fun it was. And who would have thought that Ralf Little could do a reasonably good Stevie Wonder impersonation?

Do you invest in shares?

No. I’ve got shares in my own productions, the stuff I come out with, but I haven’t got a portfolio.

The biggest drain on your resources currently?

My c--- cars. Actually, they’re objects of beauty. I’ve got a 1972 Reliant Scimitar, an Alfa Romeo GT Junior and a Talbot Excalibur camper van. As my girlfriend points out, in the time I’ve spent at my pal’s workshop caked in oil, I could have written another script or directed another movie.

Are you a gambler, like your character in 'Lock, Stock’?

Yeah, but I’m a very sensible gambler. If you win half your stake back, walk away. I once won £3,500 in Vegas, which I generated from £300. It’s fun, a little flutter. I play blackjack because there’s a logic to it.

Does money make you happy?

No, spending it does. I know unhappy wealthy people who are nothing but stressed, people who took a horrendous beating when we had that crash. If you were using interest to cash flow other things, you were doomed. I don’t ever want to be in that position, where money becomes my raison d’être. I keep it simple.